Page 35 of Forced Bratva Bride

“Because it wasn't harmless for me.” I moved closer, backing her against the balustrade. “It wasn't fun, either. It was torture.”

I didn’t know what it was, the heat of the moment or the pure jealousy and anger coursing through me, but in that moment, I needed to know. I neededherto know.

Her breath hitched. “Gio—”

“Torture,” I continued, “because I've thought about nothing else since. Because I want to do it again, and more. Because when I see you look at another man, I want to tear his eyes out.”

“That's not fair,” she whispered.

“No,” I agreed. “It's not. None of this is fair. You're twenty-five. You're an Ajello. You're everything I should stay away from.”

“Then why don't you?” Her chin tilted up, defiant.

“I've tried. But I need you to tell me the same, Larissa. That this is the worst idea you’ve ever heard of, and I’ll back off. I need to hear it from your lips.”

“Gio…” her eyelashes flickered against her cheeks nervously as she parted her lips, finding words. “I can’t…”

And that was it. My heart soared as I watched her face break out into a smile. “I can’t say that. I can’t,” she repeated as she interlaced her fingers through mine.

The tension between us had been building for longer than I cared to acknowledge, and now it snapped. I'm not sure who moved first, maybe we both did at the same time, but suddenly her mouth was on mine, hot and desperate. Her hands clutched at my shoulders, nails digging in even through the fabric of my suit. I groaned, backing her further against the balustrade, one hand sliding into her hair while the other gripped her waist.

She tasted like champagne, her mouth opening eagerly under mine. I deepened the kiss, exploring her with my tongue, savoring the small, needy sounds she made in the back of her throat. My hand slid down to cup her ass, lifting her slightly, pressing our bodies together.

“Inside,” I managed between kisses. “Somewhere private.”

She nodded, breathless, and I took her hand, leading her back through the ballroom. We skirted the edge of the crowd, avoiding eye contact with anyone who might try to engage us. Down a corridor, up a flight of stairs to the private areas of the mansion. I pulled her into a small study, locked the door behind us, and then she was in my arms again.

I backed her against the desk and lifted her onto it. Her legs parted, allowing me to step between them, the silky fabric of her dress riding up her thighs. My hands slid up her bare legs, savoring the softness of her skin and the tremble of her legs.

“You've been driving me crazy,” I murmured against her neck, nipping at the sensitive spot just below her ear. She gasped, her head falling back to give me better access. “And this dress is torture. All I’ve done all night is think of taking it off.”

“So do it,” she challenged me, her hands fumbling with my tie, tugging it loose.

I kissed my way down her throat to the swell of her breasts, my fingers finding the zipper at the back of her dress and lowering it just enough to expose more skin to my mouth. Her hands tangled in my hair, encouraging, leaving my blood to simmer at her touch. I still couldn’t believe she wasmine.

“Gio,” she moaned as I sucked a mark onto the top of her breast, just low enough that her dress would cover it. “Please.”

My hand slid higher up her thigh, finding the edge of her underwear. I teased her through the fabric, feeling the dampness there, and she whimpered, hips bucking.

“Is this what you want?” I asked, my voice rough with need.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Don't stop.”

I pushed the fabric aside and slid a finger along her slickness, circling her clit. Her whole body shuddered, and I captured her mouth again, swallowing her moans as I began to stroke her in earnest. She was so responsive, so wet already. I slipped one finger inside her, and when I found some resistance, I circled my thumb over her clit until she loosened, before going in deeper. I curled it to find that spot that made her cry out against my mouth.

“That's it,” I encouraged, setting a rhythm with my finger while my thumb continued to circle her clit. I tried to put in another finger, but she was too tight. I frowned and decided that perhaps one was enough, and then, she mewled. I curled the finger in her tighter, tapping it against that sweet inner spot.

“Let go for me, Larissa,” I leaned in and whispered in her ear, giving her a little nib.

Her eyes flew open, locking with mine, and the vulnerability I saw there made my chest ache. She was close, her inner muscles fluttering around my fingers, her breathing ragged.

“Gio,” she panted, “This feels amazing. I've never—I mean, no one has ever—”

It took a moment for her meaning to register. When it did, my hand stilled.

“You're a virgin?” I asked, disbelief coloring my tone.

She bit her lip, nodding, her eyes still dark with desire despite the embarrassment creeping into her expression.

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